The Art of Perseverance
by Erymanthos
Summary: "I love you, Duck." His breath was soft against her ear. "I know you love Mytho, but... I need to know. Have you ever thought that you could love me, too?" DuckxFakir, MythoxRue, DuckxMytho
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** _Princess Tutu_ does not belong to me, this is just a fic I wrote for fangirly fun.

If you like it and/or have constructive criticism to give, please, lay it on me! Just don't flame. Oh, and be warned, there be **spoilers** in these waters!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: The Prince's Return<strong>

The whole town, seemingly the entire kingdom, was in the streets, the citizens decked out in their finest clothes, their brightest smiles. Music could be heard streaming from every direction; color and warm light met Duck's eyes everywhere she looked.

"Wow!" She gasped, grinning widely. "I've never seen anything like this! Isn't it amazing, Fakir?"

"Yeah," the dark-haired young man by her side agreed, a smile on his own face. "I'll say this for Mytho's storybook kingdom: they don't hold back when there's celebrating to be done."

Duck laughed. "Well, of course not! Their prince just came home, after all, and with his future princess, too. What's not to party abou—Oh, that looks so good!" She waved her index finger at a street stall brimming with all sorts of baked goods. "Let's get some, Fakir!"

"Okay, okay, just wait for me," he chuckled, following her eager scampering at a more sedate pace.

"Why, 'allo there, young miss and mister," the stall-keeper beamed at them from beneath his bushy brown mustache. "What'll it be on this fine day of Prince Siegfried's Festival?"

Duck wasted no time in loading her arms with all the sweets she could carry. Turning to Fakir, she chirped happily, "Wow, I can't hold any more; I guess this is it."

"That will be ten gold crowns for the lot," the stall-keeper informed Fakir, his eyes almost hidden by his round, ruddy cheeks.

Fakir visibly paled. "Ten gold…? I don't have that much! Mytho only gave me—"

The stall-keeper's smile diminished somewhat. "Well, if you can't pay the full price, then I'll have my pastries back, if you please."

Duck's shoulders visibly drooped as she prepared to return the goods in her arms. Just then, however, a hand dropped lightly onto her shoulder.

"That won't be necessary, good sir," a familiar voice spoke softly from behind her. "Will these crowns do?"

The stall-keeper turned red and bobbed his head up and down. "Y-yes, Your Highness Prince Siegfried! Absolutely. No, wait, these are friends of yours? Then by all means, take the lot free of charge!"

"That would hardly be fair." Duck saw Mytho's slender hand drop a small leather pouch into the stall-keeper's palm. "That should cover it. Have a good day."

"And you as well, My Lord!"

Fakir smiled and shook his head before turning away; Duck felt Mytho's hand steering her from the stall, too. "I'm glad I found you, although I honestly wasn't looking for you quite yet. You came early."

"Duck wanted to see the festival before we went to meet you," Fakir said. With a jolt, Duck realized Mytho's hand was still on her shoulder. Jumping away, she nodded furiously.

"Y-yeah, Fakir's right! We decided to come a few hours early so we could look around; I mean, you don't see royal festivals like this every day!"

She was being awkward and she knew it; she wanted to clobber herself over the head. Why couldn't she be more ladylike and refined like—

"Duck? Is that you?"

"Rue!" Duck's eyes lit up as she saw her friend approach. Completely forgetting about the pastries in her arms, she went in for a hug, almost spilling the baked goods in the process.

The raven-haired girl laughed. "Here, let me help you with that." She took a few sugared rolls from Duck, causing her to turn red.

"Oh, no, Rue, you don't have to… I mean, you're a princess now. I can handle myself, see?"

Contrary to the pink-haired girl's words, several cookies tumbled to the ground, breaking into pieces.

"Nooo!" Duck cried out. Fakir put a hand over his eyes. Mytho hid a smile. Rue put her hands on her hips.

"Duck, don't be like that. We're friends, aren't we? I'm still me, and besides, I'm not a princess yet. That's still a while away." Sighing, she turned to an elegantly-dressed girl standing behind her. "Nina, would you go get a basket for Duck's things? No, don't go back to the castle, that's too far. Just buy one from someone nearby, okay?"

Duck stared with her mouth open as Nina curtsied slightly and hurried away. "Wow. Was that a lady-in-waiting?"

"One of them," Rue said.

Duck turned her awe-struck gaze to her friend. "You really _are_ like a princess, Rue! I mean, of course you are, since you're going to be one soon, I just meant that—"

"I know what you meant." Rue laughed. "Come on, let's walk around together. Mytho and I only have a little while left before we have to go back to the castle to get ready for the ceremony."

"Oh, that's right! The ceremony…" Duck began to imagine what the ceremony would be like. Mytho would be crowned prince of his kingdom again, a symbol of his triumphant return. Rue would be there, too, but she would not have a large role in the ceremony. She'd said that she didn't want her betrothal to Mytho to be a big deal._ Everyone knows, but that's not the point. I don't want it to seem like I'm flaunting it… I don't want any fancy announcements or anything, period. We'll announce it more formally when the time draws near. For now… I just want to enjoy being with Mytho._

"Snap out of it." Fakir smacked Duck lightly on the arm. She jumped and whirled to face him. "Hey, what was that for?"

"You were spacing out, weren't you?"

"That doesn't mean you have to hit me!"

"I didn't hit you hard. You can't be telling me that hurt."

"It didn't hurt, but it still—"

"Are you two coming?" Rue called. The pair turned; Rue and Mytho had already started making their way down the street. "Don't make us leave you behind."

"Ack! No, wait for us!"

Fakir smiled to himself and shook his head as Duck raced to reunite with Mytho and Rue. As he drew near to the group, as well, Mytho dropped back from the girls. "Hey, Fakir. Do you have a moment?"

"Sure, Mytho. What's up?"

"I was just wondering…" The pale-haired boy paused. "How are things going with you and Duck?"

Fakir blinked. "They're going… fine."

"Nothing's changed? I mean, except for Duck. I was wondering why you wrote it that she turned back into a girl."

"I told you already; she wanted to be a girl for the ceremony. She wanted to be able to talk with you and Rue."

"Did she tell you that? I mean, did she let you know somehow?"

For the first time that day, Fakir couldn't meet Mytho's eyes. Mytho nodded. "So you surprised her, then."

"_Ack! Fakir! Fakiiiiirrr!"_

"_Duck? I'm in here."_

"_Fakir, look at me! Wait, don't look at me! Just… I'm a girl again! I'm not a duck, Fakir! I'm a girl! How did this happen? What… Why…?"_

"_Duck, calm down. I'm the reason you're a girl again."_

"_What… Wait, what?"_

"_I wrote a story where you turned back into a girl."_

"_Y-you really did that? But Fakir…! Why, Fakir?"_

"_Don't worry, it's just for Mytho's crowning ceremony. I thought you would enjoy it more if you got rid of your duck-bill and feathers for a while."_

"…_Really? I didn't mind being a duck, Fakir. But… I guess it would be nice to be able to talk with them. It would be like old times, almost."_

"_Yeah, that's it. Now how about you go get dressed before Karon walks in? I left some clothes upstairs on the bed."_

"_ACK!"_

"It's not like you to do something like that, Fakir," Mytho mused.

"What, you're not happy you can talk with her?"

The prince shook his head. "No, it's just… Doing things purely for your own sake instead of others'."

"I'm not doing it just for my sake."

"What do you mean?"

Fakir flushed and didn't answer.

Mytho laughed. "You're bad at hiding your emotions, you know that?"

"Shut up."

* * *

><p>"We're here!" Duck called out as she burst into the castle. The guards, already alerted to her and Fakir's arrival, bowed to let them pass. "Where's Rue?" She asked a random maid, who jumped and looked scandalized at being spoken to so directly.<p>

"I'm sorry, Miss, but I am extremely busy preparing for the crowning ceremony. I would suggest you ask someone else."

Fakir put a hand on Duck's shoulder. "Don't tell me you haven't heard of Princess Tutu coming to visit."

The maid jumped again. "Princess—You mean this is…?" She looked at Fakir and nodded. "Please, follow me. I shall take you to Lady Rue."

Three marble staircases and five velvet-carpeted halls later, Duck was just beginning to wonder when exactly they would make it to Rue's room, when the maid stopped in front of a pair of large double-doors. "Here are Lady Rue's chambers. You may go right on in, since she is expecting you."

"Thanks!" Duck flung open one of the doors.

"Duck, Fakir!" Rue stood from where she sat in front of a mirror having her hair done; the lady-in-waiting attending to her squawked indignantly at having her work interrupted, but was ignored. "You made it. It was an hour or so ago that we split up, wasn't it? I was worried you wouldn't make it here in time because of the crowds."

"Yeah, it was tough getting here," her friend chuckled. "There are more and more people coming into the city by the minute. I wonder if there will even be room for you and Mytho to go out there when the time comes."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Rue said with a smile. "In the meantime, we should get you ready for your roles as Guests of Honor."

"What?" Duck gaped at the raven-haired girl. Rue frowned.

"Don't tell me Mytho didn't tell you when he invited you two. Since you as Princess Tutu helped Mytho regain his heart and defeat the Raven, as well as Fakir, you're both to have the Guest of Honor positions in the chariot directly behind ours, and special seats at the feast this evening after the crowning ceremony."

"Bu-bu-but… Fakir, did you know about this?"

He sighed and nodded. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd be freaking out."

"Freaking out? Who's freaking out?" Duck laughed shakily. "I don't see anyone freaking out, do you see anyone—Rue I can't do this please don't make me," she begged in a rush.

Rue blinked. "You don't want to?"

"I-it's not that I don't want to, it's just that I don't want to, er, steal the spotlight from you and Mytho—not that I think that I'm better than you or anything, quite the opposite, it's just—"

"She's got stage fright," Fakir said bluntly.

Duck turned red. Rue looked at her.

"You're joking. After gathering all the heart shards and battling Kraehe and the Raven's minions, you're afraid to ride around in a chariot?"

"Yes," Duck squeaked.

Rue slowly shook her head, a slight smile on her face. "All right; I think I get what's going on. You don't have to if you don't want to. I'll tell Mytho."

"Oh thank you Rue," Duck babbled out. "I'd do anything for you, you know I would, it's just that all those people and they're looking at me and I'm not Tutu now, I'm just Duck…"

"She said she gets it, idiot," Fakir broke in. "Why don't we leave so she can finish getting ready."

"We? You mean, you're not going to be a Guest of Honor, Fakir?" The blue-eyed girl asked.

"Why would I be the only Guest of Honor? Come on, let's go." He turned and walked out the door. Duck turned back to Rue.

"Well, um, I guess we'll be going now, Rue. See you later, bye!"

Tossing her friend a hasty wave, she raced out the door to catch up to Fakir.

* * *

><p>Duck cheered and laughed as the colorful parade passed by, completely caught up in the crowd's near-euphoric mood. "Yaaay! Welcome back, Prince Siegfried! Long live the prince!"<p>

"Why are you calling him 'prince'?" Fakir asked. "He's not still Mytho to you?"

"Of course he is," Duck grinned, not about to let her good mood be ruined. "But if someone heard me yelling, 'Long live Mytho,' they'd think I was weird or something."

Fakir just looked at her.

"Hey!" She frowned. "What're you staring at?"

"Nothing." He looked away pointedly.

She hit him on the arm.

"OW! Hey, that really _did_ hurt, idiot!"

"Well, you deserved it! You're the one making fun of me, _idiot._"

"You should know by now that I was just—"

"Oh, oh, look! Here they come!" Duck gestured excitedly to an approaching chariot that was lavishly decorated with white and red roses.

"Those red ones must be for Rue, and the white ones are for Mytho, of course," she observed. "They're already accepting Rue as their princess; that's great!"

Fakir looked at her again, this time more closely, and was about to speak when she began cheering once more.

"You can see them more clearly now; hey, Fakir, wave! Make sure they see us!"

Duck jumped around, flinging her arms about every which way. People in the crowd nearby moved quickly to avoid being hit.

"Uh, Duck," Fakir began, but she only grabbed his arm, hauled it upright and waved it around like his hand was a pennant.

"Come on, Fakir, you're not waving. Don't tell me you're not happy for them at all?" She asked teasingly.

"Don't tell me you are."

Duck looked up at him, shocked at how suddenly serious he was. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Mytho wanting Rue for his princess. Rue is going to marry him, not you. And you don't care about that anymore?"

Duck stared at him for a while longer before quickly turning away, gazing instead at the approaching chariot in which Mytho and Rue were standing. The storybook prince was holding Rue's hand with his own, their fingers intertwined as they waved to the crowds with their free hands. Two white horses pulled the chariot down the cobblestone road; radiant smiles adorned Rue and Mytho's faces.

"They look so happy," Duck murmured. Fakir thought her voice sounded almost wistful; was it for them or for her? She still wasn't looking at him, or responding to him. His eyes on her were unwavering, however, as his hand drew towards her own.

Just then, she spoke in a low voice, almost inaudible through the din of the crowd. "You're right, Fakir. I do still love Mytho."

Duck didn't see his fingers, barely touching hers, clench into a fist and return to his side.

"I know it's stupid," she continued, fighting to restrain tears. "I mean, he has Rue now, he doesn't need me."

"What do you mean, he doesn't need you?"

Duck looked up once more at the sharpness in Fakir's voice.

"You're the one who helped him, aren't you? You're the one who returned his heart to him. You've fought for him, cried for him. And now you're giving up on him?"

"Giving up…?"

He folded his arms, glaring down at her. "That's not the Duck _I_ know. The Duck I know would fight for Mytho no matter what. She wouldn't let something like this get in her way."

"What do you mean?" Duck's eyes narrowed, even though traces of tears still lingered in them. "Mytho's already chosen his princess; he's chosen Rue. Look at them!" She flung a hand out to where the two stood in the chariot. "He doesn't even know I love him. He can't know. He doesn't feel the same way for me, and besides, what about Rue? I don't want to hurt her; she's my friend."

"Better her than you," Fakir muttered under his breath.

"Huh? Fakir, did you say something?"

"No. Anyway, just think about what I said." Seemingly without thinking, he caught her hand up in his and tugged her towards where the chariot was turning a corner. "Come on, we're going to lose them if we don't catch up."


	2. Chapter 2

At long last, after what seemed to be a week of merrymaking crammed all into one day, Prince Siegfried's Festival was nearly over. The parade through the streets, the crowning glory of which had been Rue and Mytho's smiles. The grand feast which had been paradise for Duck's eyes and stomach. And now, it was time for the one event to top them all:

The royal ball.

Fakir stood at the far east wall of the enormous ballroom, watching the other people in the room make conversation with each other in small groups. He held a glass in one hand filled with champagne; in the other was a small sandwich.

"Fakir!"

He jumped as Duck appeared at his elbow. She was dressed in a simple, pale green gown; her long hair tumbled down her back in waves, loosed from its customary braid.

"I finally found you, Fakir! I had a hard time getting away from those ladies-in-waiting; they wanted to do all this weird stuff to my hair, pile it up on top of my head and everything. I mean, look at me, do I look like the kind of person who could pull that off? I think that with all those hairpins stuck in, I'd look less like a lady and more like a pincushion."

Fakir looked at her, and kept looking, saying nothing. Duck started to fidget under his gaze.

"Uh… Oh! Is that sandwich for me? Thanks, you shouldn't have!" With one motion, she swiped the sandwich out of his hand and crammed it into her mouth.

That seemed to snap Fakir out of his daze. "Hey! Idiot, show some manners here at least; people are staring!"

She gulped down the sandwich and glowered back at him. "Well, that's something, hearing _you_ talking about manners."

"Me? I—"

"Fakir, Duck." It was Mytho, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "I'm sorry, Rue told me about how you don't like the spotlight, but… My advisors are getting very insistent that the Storyteller and Princess Tutu share the first dance together, since you two didn't want to have the positions of honor at the parade or feast."

Duck swallowed again. "Me, dance? Here? Now?"

"I'm sorry, Duck. It's just that my people have waited so long for my return, and—"

She felt a hand envelop hers; looking around, she saw that it was Fakir's. "We'll do it."

"We will?" She squeaked.

Fakir frowned at her. "Didn't you go to a dance school? Weren't you training and hoping for a chance to perform like this?"

"Well, yes, but I'm so out of practice… I haven't danced in weeks…"

He gripped her hand more firmly. "Just follow my lead. Mytho, could the music…?"

At a look from the prince, one of the footmen went scurrying to where the orchestra played a soft, lilting piece. A few moments later, the music gracefully died away. Mytho took Duck's other hand and led her and Fakir to the middle of the dance floor; people either bowed or curtsied as they passed.

At the center of the floor, Mytho turned to face the crowd. "My people," he spoke up in a clear, calm voice, "Princess Tutu and Fakir the Storyteller, as the heroes who restored my heart, will honor us with the first dance of the evening."

He drew away, nodding at the conductor, who turned and struck up the orchestra in the beginning of a waltz.

"Here we go," Fakir murmured to Duck, placing one hand on her waist, the other still holding her own hand. "Remember, just follow my lead. If it helps, there are no other people here. It's just us. Just a dance with the two of us."

And they were off.

Thanks to their training in dance, Fakir and Duck proved to be excellent representatives of the prince for the first dance of the ball. Duck tried to keep looking into Fakir's eyes, tried not to think of all those other eyes on her. But it was hard; not the fact that everyone was looking at her. No, that wasn't the biggest issue anymore.

Fakir… he was gazing back at her so intently that, if she didn't know better, Duck would have thought that he had stage fright, too. But since that couldn't possibly be the case… What was the reason for that _look_ on his face?

Duck could feel her own face flushing, and desperately hoped that others would chalk her cheeks' redness up to the warmth in the room, or nervousness from being the guest of honor, or…

Why wouldn't Fakir look at anything else? And… was it just her, or did he just pull her closer to him?

"Ready?" He murmured almost in her ear.

Before she could reply, he had lifted her above his head. She raised her arms to the ceiling as he spun around once before lowering her to recline gracefully on the floor. The waltz drew to a close as he knelt beside her, leaning over her so that their faces were nearly touching.

Silence reigned in the ballroom as Fakir and Duck remained in their last positions. Then applause erupted.

"Bravo! Bravo!"

"That was beautiful!"

"Marvelous!"

"As expected from the two who saved Prince Siegfried's heart!"

Fakir rose slowly; Duck sprang up a little too quickly, nearly knocking foreheads with him. He said nothing, but bowed to her.

_He's still staring at me!_ Duck thought as she forced a smile and curtsied in return. But the show wasn't over just yet, as Fakir demonstrated by taking her arm in his and escorting her off the dance floor.

When they had left the floor, Duck snatched her arm out of Fakir's as if it were on fire. "Uh, say, it's really warm in here, isn't it? It's warm, right? I think I'm going to go get some air on the balcony. Okay? Be right back!"

As swiftly as she departed (tripping once over her skirts, Fakir noticed), Mytho was there.

"Can we talk?"

Fakir groaned inwardly; considering the path their previous conversation in town had taken, he was _not_ exactly looking forward to this one.

"What is it, Mytho?"

"About Duck. You haven't told her yet, have you?"

Silence.

"I see. I would have thought you'd told her by the way you were looking at her throughout your dance."

Fakir's eyes widened. "I was…?"

"Staring like a love-struck loon," Rue quipped as she came up to stand next to Mytho.

Fakir shook his head, a hand over his eyes. "I really...? I didn't think, I just…" He let out a sigh, lowering his hand to his side. "She just looks so beautiful." His words were barely audible, but his friends heard and smiled.

"Then tell her," Rue said.

Mytho added on his own encouragement as his friend glared at his betrothed. "Tell her, Fakir. Is it really fair to keep your feelings from her when she's done so much for you already?"

"She's done…?"

Mytho sighed and shook his head. "She's softened your heart, for one. She's helped you find a place where you feel you belong, for another. Fakir, you are my closest friend in the world. You were even when I didn't really know what a friend was. But you only ever tried for me, I see that now. Fakir... it's obvious to anyone who knows you that you love Duck. Why not try for her like you once tried for me?"

The dark-haired young man lowered his eyes, not able to conceal his slight flush. Without a word, he turned and strode out of the room, head bowed.

Rue and Mytho watched him go. Taking Mytho's arm, Rue said, "He was always like that, wasn't he? Running away even from what's important to him… I used to despise him for it, but now I feel kind of sorry for him."

"You can't blame him for being afraid of rejection, Rue."

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "No. I know how he feels, all too well. And when it comes to Duck… I don't know if she's even thought about that possibility. She doesn't know how special she's become to us, does she?"

Mytho laughed, a little wryly. "Well, it's not really like her to stop and think about herself."

"No, it's not, is it?" Rue joined in with a laugh of her own, looking out to where her friend stood on the balcony. "She always thinks about others first… Well, that doesn't mean we can't think about her and her happiness, anyway."

"What are you planning, Rue?" Mytho looked down at her, smiling. Her lips curved up in reply.

"Nothing much. Just a little push, is all."

* * *

><p>It wasn't long until Fakir found himself in the gardens below the grand ballroom. He finally let himself take a deep breath, feeling the cool evening air flood his lungs.<p>

"Tell her?" He murmured to himself. Closing his eyes, he shook his head. What he and Duck had now—living together, she accompanying him in her bird form everywhere he went, listening and quacking encouragingly when he read her his stories—was incredibly precious to him.

He put a hand to his chest; it made his heart ache to think of changing that, of leaving those days behind. But… maybe Rue and Mytho were right. Could he be happy leaving things the way they were? Duck not knowing what was in his heart, and he unsure of what lay within hers?

He lifted his hand from his heart to gaze at his fingertips. No, he knew all too well who Duck dreamed about. It was Mytho. Not Fakir the Storyteller, but Prince Siegfried, his best friend. The friend he had tried to protect, and then free. The only one he'd thought about, before Duck came along and gradually turned his world upside down.

Looking back up, he saw that he was gazing at a statue of none other than Princess Tutu. It was small, but of undeniable craftsmanship; the centerpiece of a fountain. Fakir couldn't help letting out a heavy sigh as he continued looking at its features. There was her angelic smile that was so cute even when turned down into a frown. Cold, hard marble could do no justice to the true, brilliant blue of her eyes. But even so, the craftsman had caught the slight wave in her thick, soft hair, and the graceful tilt of her head and one hand that was uplifted as if to touch the stars.

"Fakir?"

The statue was so lifelike, he swore he could even hear it speak his name…

"Fakir, hey! Are you okay?"

Flinching, he turned to see the real Duck staring at him quizzically.

"Duck? What are you… It's nothing, I'm fine. I thought you were getting some air."

She began walking towards him, the hem of her gown trailing slightly on the ground behind her. "Well, I was, but then Rue came along and said that you looked tired after that dance of ours. So I got you some water!" She held it out to him with a grin. "Boy, Fakir, you must be even more out of practice than me if you got tired from that!"

"Uh, yeah. Maybe." Internally, he cursed Rue for meddling.

Duck's head tilted to the side. "Huh? Is something wrong, Fakir?"

"What? No, I told you I'm okay."

Still, she continued to look at him worriedly before finally shrugging; he could read in her eyes that she didn't believe him. "Well, if you say so."

Fakir knew as well as she that he would normally react to her teasing, most likely with a returning jibe of his own. Right now, though, he wasn't himself and he knew it. Trying to clear his head, he reached out to take the glass of water she held out to him; as his hand closed around the glass, his fingers happened to brush her own.

Duck turned pink.

Fakir's hand jerked as he saw her blush, dropping the glass.

"Oh, no!" Duck cried out, falling to her knees to try and pick up the shards on the ground.

"Duck, wait, you'll cut yourself!"

"OW!"

Too late.

Fakir sighed as he knelt in front of her. "Honestly, you're such a clutz sometimes."

Before Duck could stop him, he'd ripped a piece of cloth from his silk jabot and begun to wrap it around her finger.

"Fakir, I'm fine! Your outfit…"

"Hold still, idiot, I'm trying to tie this." After doing so, however, he didn't let go of her hand, but continued to look at it as if it held the answer to living.

She began to fidget. "Uhh…"

He finally let out a sigh; she caught her breath as he raised his gaze to meet hers. "Duck, I…"

"Yes?" She yelped.

_Ack! Duck, you sound like an idiot! Even more like a clutz than normal! Aaagh! Wait, what do I care if Fakir thinks I'm a clutz? He already thinks I am…_

"…You look really nice in that dress."

_Argh, Fakir you idiot! Now's the perfect time, right? You're alone with Duck. You're holding her hand. Were Rue and Mytho right? Should I just tell her? Now?_

Duck looked away, flushing, an awkward grin on her face. "Oh, uh, thanks."

He shook his head hard. "No, that's not what I meant to say… I mean, you do look nice. You look beautiful. It's just…"

Silence fell. Duck began to squirm slightly once more.

_He's still holding my hand! And… wait, he's looking at me like that again?_

"Duck, I didn't turn you back into a girl just for the festival and ceremony."

She blinked. "Huh? What do you mean, Fakir?"

"Didn't I say that I would stay by your side forever? I meant it, and I'll mean it even if you go back to being a duck. But… I miss you." He continued looking into her eyes even as he slowly flushed red. "I miss hearing your voice, seeing your smile. We can always be together, and that's how I want it. But it's not the same."

Duck's eyes widened. "F-Fakir?"

"When you're a duck, I can speak to you. But not like this. I know you so well by now that I can almost tell what you're thinking with just a look. But it's not enough…"

His gaze softened somewhat; leaning towards her, he gently pulled her into his embrace. She was so surprised that she didn't make a sound.

"I've held you in my arms so many times as a duck, but only a few times as a girl. And Duck… none of those times were like right now."

Fakir's arms tightened around her, just enough to drive the point home.

"I love you, Duck." His breath was soft against her ear. "I know you love Mytho, but… I need to know. Have you ever thought that you could love me, too?"


End file.
